City of Marble
by ASH.l.e.i.11
Summary: Set nearly 22 years after the end of CoG, ignores CoFA as it was written before it was released; this sees Clary and Jace's daughter, Maxine, learning the truth of her heritage that her parents never really wanted her to know. Extended summary inside.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: None of the characters (except Maxine), settings, terminology etc. belongs to me._

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___Set nearly 22 years after the end of City of Glass; this sees Clary and Jace's daughter, Maxine, learning the truth of her heritage that her parents never really wanted her to know. 'I never wanted who she was to be influenced and tainted by learning she was Valentine's granddaughter.' Multiple POVs. CF/JL, AL/MB, SL/OC_

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I started this during the Christmas holidays last year. It poured out of me during those two weeks and then came to a sudden halt after that. But I've just finished reading the series for the third time and it's inspired me to finish this. I also plan to do a series of one shots from the trilogy, but that won't be for a while yet. Updates should be fairly often as most of this is already written say for a couple of chapters and editing here and there.

_The rest of the story is set nearly 22 years after CoG, but the prologue takes place just four years after CoG._

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_Clary's POV_

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Four years have passed since I first set foot in Idris. Four years since I first saw the glass towers that were so spectacular that they automatically imprinted themselves onto the heart of every Shadowhunter. I never understood how one city could mean so much to someone – I'd spent most of my time there missing New York – but I understood once we'd all returned and I missed seeing the stars in the sky at night. You could rarely see the stars here. It feels strange to look back on that time sometimes; so much has changed since then.

Mom and Luke got married not long after our return. I threw a fit when I discovered they'd bought a house way up state – 'I was _not_ leaving the city,' was what I told them, but in my head I was saying; _I'm not leaving Jace_. So I was more than happy when they said that I could stay at the institute and start training; so long as I didn't share a room with Jace. But what they didn't know couldn't hurt them.

Isabelle and Simon _have _slept together; but nothing came of it. It had been pretty bad when it had been blurted out in front of everyone – and I mean everyone – over breakfast in a diner one morning. "'_You slept with a vampire!'"_ Izzy didn't help the situation when, trying to take the attention away from her and Simon, had pointed out that her brother had slept with a warlock. I had caught Jace's eye when I'd looked at him out the corner of mine – I did that so often without being aware of it; I was always looking at him; at least he had some restraint. We'd smiled at each other and rolled our eyes, him taking my hand under the table; the only person we'd slept with was the other. I'd been surprised to learn that about Jace, I would have bet otherwise, but he'd told me he'd always gotten bored before getting that far before.

Mom, surprisingly, didn't follow through on her threat when my eighteenth rolled around; though I was sure she would have for a moment. Jace asked me to marry him; I said yes. I found out from her later that it was because she was scared. She was worried about how fast things were going with us, and then there was her _real_ reason; she was worried about the similarities between me and Jace and her and Valentine. We were the same age as they'd been... And then she said something that caused me to stop speaking to her for a month; '_Valentine raised him; there are parts of him in him._' I'd run away as she'd shouted that she was '_just trying to protect me_.'

It was a mixture of Luke and Jace going behind our backs that got us to talk again. Jace disappeared for the whole day; I found out when he came home that he'd been talking to mom all day, trying to get her to like him more, trying to prove he deserved me – not that he gets a choice in that; I'm his whether he wants me or not. I was a little mad at Jace for doing it; mom should have learned to like him on her own. He told me he didn't mind though, that he'd hated seeing me unhappy due to fighting about him. I got mad again when my mom turned up, invited by him. Luke locked us both in the library and refused to let us out till we made up. I forgave her eventually, but it was touch and go for a while.

Things were a lot smoother after that. The wedding ran without a hitch, which surprised me but then again Isabelle had done most of the arrangements; all I had to do was show up really. Maryse and Robert surprised us by renting us a cottage in Idris for a honeymoon of sorts; not that we could have told you we were in Idris. They may as well have just bought us a new bed.

Then the unexpected happened; I discovered I was pregnant. I blamed the hormones; but now I'm not so sure that was completely it. I went a little crazy. I was scared, and paranoid, and – as if this didn't hurt Jace enough – I found I couldn't be near him without my stress level sky rocketing. In the end I moved back in with mom and Luke. Even then I spent my time locked in my room; barely eating, sleeping for a few hours if I was lucky... They tried to help me – I wasn't even taking my medication. Time seemed to make things worse and in the end mom snapped. She barged into my room and – not treading on eggshells like they both had been for the rest of my stay there – told me how it was; that I was being, somewhat understandingly, stupid, and that my child was not going to be like Jonathon, that I should pull myself together, go home, and apologise to my husband.

Which is exactly what I did. I didn't want to argue when my mom looked at me like that. I was surprised that Jace forgave me as easily as he did; but I suspect he was just happy to have me back, and part-way to being sane again. Those months seemed irrelevant though when, about five months after that, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl; and when she opened her eyes, they weren't the fathomless black of Jonathon's, but the exact same gold as her father's.

"Where _is_ daddy?" I asked her, for she was asleep in my arms. We'd brought her home from the Alicante infirmary this afternoon. Home being the country manor we were all staying in for the summer. We'd only been home a few hours before Jace had gotten word of a demon nest in the woods nearby. Mom and Luke were staying with Amatis, so he, Alec and Robert had gone to deal with it; telling Izzy and Maryse to stay with me. They hadn't come back yet.

I went to stand by the window – _again_ – to see if I could see him returning, but once again the path leading up to the house was empty. Unwillingly I thought of the night on the shore of Lake Lyn; I didn't have another wish to bring him back to me if something went wrong this time. Glancing down at my daughter I absently wondered if he'd be the one I'd choose out of the both of them. She was only a few days old but I already loved her _so_ much.

"Clary." I turned around and Jace was stood in the doorway; I breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked strangely vulnerable though...and beaten. Blood streamed down the left side of his face from a cut on his temple, and his right jaw was starting to show signs of someone else's lucky hit. He held his left arm across himself holding the top of his right arm which hung limply by his side; dislocated shoulder I'd guess. The tough material of his gear had been torn and the frayed edges were dark and glistening where the blood had seeped into the fabric.

This was the part of being a Shadowhunter that I hated; the never knowing whether the person you loved was going to come home or not, the constant injuries; pain and blood and more pain. Being raised in the mundane world I hadn't grown up with death as a constant companion, I hadn't accepted it as the norm. I still didn't like it, even after four years of getting used to it.

I'd been too busy noticing and cataloguing his injuries I'd forgotten that strange sense of venerability he'd had in his eyes. "Jace, what happened?" I asked, I longed to reach out and comfort him, lay my hand on him, but a part of me was afraid I'd hurt him, so I stayed put.

"Clary," he said quietly, "co-could you sit down; please?" His voice sounded like it was about to crack. I walked round the end of the bed and sat down on the edge carefully, trying not to jostle the sleeping child in my arms. He closed the door awkwardly behind him and walked across the room to stand in front of me. Then he fell to his knees.

I choked back on my cry of shock, concern for him overruling every other thought. He was staring down at the floor, so I couldn't see his expression but he seemed to be near breaking point. "Jace? What is it? What's wrong? What happened?" I asked, shifting our child to my left arm so I could lean forward and place my outstretched hand on the shoulder that wasn't injured. He took a deep breath; his shoulder shaking under my hand, then he buried his head against my knees.

Jace would never admit he cried that night, even though no one would have begrudged him for it; not that you could tell he was crying though. He was perfectly still and not a single sound escaped his lips. I would only realise the next morning when I picked up my pants from the day before and discovered the patchy stains his tears had left that that was what he'd been doing. And on his shirt I'd find stains from my own.

He lifted his head after a few minutes, though it felt longer. "It's bad news," he managed to tell me after a few attempts at trying. Normally he would have laughed – as if that wasn't blatantly obvious; the fact that he didn't only worried me further. I turned around and laid our baby, gently, in the middle of the bed before sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of him.

"What happened?" I asked for the third time. I reached up and pushed the hair back from his face, rubbing my thumb under the cut on his temple, inconspicuously trying to see how deep it was. _It must be really bad_, I thought; I could tell he was reluctant to tell me. "Jace, please?" He looked up and my breath caught when I saw the look in his eyes.

"My father," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. I was against him within a second, him having grabbed me with his good arm. I was frozen with shock, with fear, I couldn't breathe; I was drowning. He was dead, I was _there_, I _saw_ it; I helped _do_ it.

But he wasn't holding me protectively; he was holding me like he needed me, and as I grasped what he'd meant my shock turned to pain and the tears began to form and fall from my eyes. "Oh no..."

Although I hadn't known him long, I'd begun to love him, and had become an adopted daughter of sorts; I'd never say actual daughter, that spot was rightfully Isabelle's.

R.I.P.


	2. Daughter of Angels

_There won't always be next day updates – just to warn you. I just thought I'd get this chapter up as there was only a small section that needed editing. Hope you enjoy it. Please remember to review._

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_Maxine's POV_

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It was just after I was born that my parents had been given the duty of running the Institute in New York, and I've lived there my whole life; with the yearly trip to Alicante for the summer. My name; Maxine Lightwood. Maxie for short – or just Max if you're Simon – born seventeen and a half years ago to Clary and Jace Lightwood. Although I shouldn't have to tell you that; it's obvious to anyone whose daughter I am; I have my dad's golden eyes and my mom's flaming red hair and rosy cheeks; both characteristics being enhanced by the blood running through my veins, the blood of the Angel.

Another quality I possess is my mom's talent with runes...except more so. I think I scare her sometimes, because there's been more than one occasion when she hasn't been the only Shadowhunter in the room to not recognise what I've drawn. It seems I can draw runes not even Angles have created, not ones that she knows they've created anyway. She doesn't know why I'm able to though, when she can't. My personal theory, however, is because I have twice the amount – or near enough – of Angel blood running through my veins than she does.

I have signs of my dad's agility too, but it's not as quite as obvious. It's more like the results you would expect to see from someone who had simply trained very hard, as opposed to natural talent. But they would have had to have trained hard for their whole life, whereas I've only trained since I was eight, but since I'm rarely let out during fights, it's not as if there's anyone around to notice that I'm a little more gifted than normal.

So as mentioned I've lived in the New York Institute for Shadowhunters my whole life. I don't mind though I've always felt at home here, plus it's never boring either, what with uncle Magnus – who cast an aging spell on himself so he looks the same age as uncle Alec now – constantly trying to get uncle Alec to wear something coated in glitter, even after all these years of him blatantly refusing, and aunt Isabelle's near constant outbursts over her culinary skills, saying – or rather screaming – that if people don't like it then maybe someone else should volunteer, to which the reply from my dad is that he _always_ volunteers...To order take out that is.

There's also mom's best friend Simon, who still continues to hang around despite the..._situation_. He tries to hide it, but it shows; so I tend to hang out with him the most, I think it makes him feel less awkward. I have like this whole protective thing towards him since he's youngest – he'd never admit it though, because even though he's technically sixteen he always claims to be the same age as my mom. I like spending time with him though; I spend the majority of my time with him actually; that is when I'm not training or doing some other Shadowhunting duty. My mom just laughs at the pair of us; we're constantly arguing, and laughing and generally having fun. He's kind of _my_ best friend now.

My grandparents Jocelyn and Luke – who I call Gramps; he loves it – also lived here for a while when I was younger, but they escaped this world and headed to the country when I was little. I still see them often though, as every other weekend we go up to their house and relax as a family.

Maryse, my other grandmother, had also been a resident, but she retired to Idris when I was five. She probably would have remained here in New York with Alec and Isabelle, her remaining family, but they're grown up now and I think she wanted to be closer to her other son, Max, who had died during a battle in Idris before I was even born. Robert, her husband, my grandfather, was also laid to rest in Idris, after a nasty encounter with a demon which he didn't come back from.

Nobody had ever told me the full story – about Max anyway, because although I was a baby when Robert died, it was something my dad made a point of remembering; since he'd died to save my dad's life. It was the day I'd come home from the infirmary. Dad had found out about a demon nest near the house and he, Robert and Alec had gone to deal with it. Dad didn't see the one that came up behind him, he was about to be killed and Robert jumped in and took the blow. Maryse and Izzy had been devastated, Jace had told them to stay home with my mom and me, and I know they regretted listening to him.

I felt more sorry for Izzy; she always seemed to blame the deaths in her family on herself, because though I don't know much about Max's death – I always felt uncomfortable about asking – I do know that she'd been there...and that he'd been young. Thankfully she'd forgiven my parents for naming me after him, but she still struggles to say my name sometimes. It must be awful feeling that guilty; even now, years later. It's better on good days though.

I'd always been content with that being the limit of my knowledge on the subject, but recently I constantly found myself with the need to know more; some in built desire that was gradually getting stronger, growing bigger so there was a space ready to be filled; so I decided to put a plan into action, and get over my fear of asking to hear details about my parents past.

I thought it best to target my mom with my questions, as – being an original Lightwood – it would probably hurt dad more were I to ask him – especially about Max.

I started off easy.

"Mom?" I asked as she came in to say goodnight. "How did you and dad meet? You've never really told me exactly and I feel like I'm missing out on some big love story."

Her face briefly showed shock and worry, so briefly I wondered if I imagined it and then was quickly expressionless and it was hard to tell what she thought of my question. It _wasn't_ hard, though, to tell she'd been caught off guard, which was evident in the time it took her to answer.

"That's a long story, sweetheart. And it's late." She finally managed.

"Mom," I said pleadingly. "Please. Think of it as a bed time story."

"Aren't you a little ol-" She started to say but then broke off when she saw the expression on my face. After debating for a moment she finally said; "Okay. _Just_ the beginning though so don't get _too_ excited."

If only she knew how hard it was not to though, when finally, after seventeen and a half years, she decided that I was ready to know _something_ about her past – besides the obvious. I sat up a little in bed, scooting to the top so there was room for her to sit. Eagerness was plain in my expression.

"Hmm, let's see. It was more than twenty years ago, I was a little younger than you are now and I was at Pandemonium with Simon. This was before Simon was turned. I was just trying to have a normal night out with my friend without being attacked by demons. Your grandmother thought I'd have a better chance of having a good time if I blended in and pretended to be mundane for the night."

It didn't surprise me to learn that. Even now, when she was older and her fighting skills were almost as good as dad's, she had this sense of vulnerability about her; I can imagine anyone wanting to protect her; especially grandma Jocelyn, especially when she was young, and _especially_ when she was going to Pandemonium.

"What happened then?" I asked, allowing myself to be drawn into her story like I did with a good book.

"A demon showed up," she said simply. "What else?"

"And dad was tracking it, right?"

"With Alec and Izzy," she confirmed. "I didn't know them at the time," she informed me. "My mom kept me pretty sheltered from everyone else. She was afraid I wouldn't be accepted for having a father who'd been turned into a werewolf. Anyway," she continued, "I noticed Izzy first, louring it into the back –I thought they were going off to have sex; wouldn't have surprised me with Izzy. _Don't_ tell her I said that," she warned me.

"You didn't realise they were Shadowhunters?" I managed to ask through my giggles.

"No," she told me. "Your dad and Alec were following her; that's what got my suspicions raised. I didn't acknowledge the runes and gear till later; all I saw was the knife in your dad's hand. Stupidly I told Simon," she said; "he went to get security. He told me to stay put but, of course, I followed them; I thought they were gonna commit the regular kind of murder. Being who I was I couldn't stand there and let them. I realised what was going on once I got back there," she said, "but it was difficult coming up with an explanation when Simon reappeared with security; I looked pretty stupid when they found me and I was all alone. Your father just smirked at the fact that they couldn't see him and that I couldn't say anything without sounding insane, and then he just left. He stuck with me though; and it wasn't long before I saw him again."

I'd been so enthralled with her tale, I didn't realise she'd stopped for a while.

"And that's how we met." She said in a way which indicated she wasn't going to tell me anything else tonight. But I still had to try. There was no way she was leaving it there.

"What? Mom! You can't stop there! It's just getting interesting!"

"I can and I will. Now go to sleep, you have training in the morning with your dad, and you know how much of a morning person he is, and we aren't." She bent down to kiss my forehead before getting up and heading out of my room. "Goodnight, sweetheart," she said, closing the door behind her.

I slid down in bed, letting the frustration seep through me. '_Go to sleep_,' yeah like I would be able to do _that_ now. I had way too much to think about.

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Clary's POV

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Jace was waiting for me outside Maxie's door when I left her, and his fingers interlaced with mine without either of us, seemingly, having to think about it. Who'd of thought we could still love each other this much. But here we were, on the brink of 40 and still acting like teenagers.

"I heard you telling Maxie about us," he commented knowingly. "Nice use of creative truth telling by the way. When did you come up with that version of events?"

"About fifteen years ago," I replied. "When she first started to think I'd always been a full Shadowhunter; at least it's easier to explain some things this way."

"Speaking of explaining," he said; "I thought we were gonna wait till her eighteenth, if we were going to tell her at all that is," he finished eyeing me accusingly, as we made our way down the corridor to our room.

"We were." I said defensively. "But surely telling her about how we met isn't too bad. And you should have seen her, she's getting desperate, it's like it's finally dawned on her that a big piece of her life is missing. That there's something we haven't told her; something we're hiding." My face contorted in worry, and there was an undercurrent of anger and frustration. "I _hate_ it, Jace. We're putting her through the exact same thing we suffered. Kind of ironic really that by protecting her we're the ones causing the problem."

I felt Jace sigh beside me as he heard the truth in my words, and his unwillingness to accept them.

"I think maybe we should tell her, I mean let's be honest, she's more mature than most seventeen year olds, and her eighteenth's only six months away after all. It'll only be that much worse the longer we leave it." I mentioned, pointing out the facts of the situation. "It'll be better if we tell her rather than her find out. Which she'll probably do soon."

I looked over at Jace beside me and he looked like he was having some internal battle between protecting his only daughter from the harsh truths of our past, and relieving her from the obvious confusion she was feeling as well as the pain from being deceived for so long already.

"I can't decide this now. Let me sleep on it at least," he begged.

How could I not comply, just because my mind was made up, and he sounded so desperate. "Of course," I said softly, reaching up with my hand to soften out the marks of worry on his face.

He put his hand over mine, holding it against his cheek, and took a deep breath, bringing his head forward against mine and shutting his eyes.

"I find myself in need of a distraction," he breathed, as we reached our door.

"I think I can help with that." And I reached behind me and turned the door handle.


	3. Slip of the Tongue

_Jace's POV_

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I never grew tired of opening my eyes in the morning and seeing the sun's rays illuminate Clary's sleeping form where she lay beside me. In some ways this privilege was a blessing. Once upon a time I thought I'd only be able to dream about this, late at night when nobody could see how painful it was for me to do so. At the time I'd always suspected she saw the same future for us. It's fair to say we both like this one better. She had her head against my shoulder and her entire length was rested against my right side, her legs intertwined with mine. I've never seen anyone look so peaceful.

I don't know how long I lay watching her. But when the sun's rays came in stronger through the window, her eyes, reluctantly, fluttered open. "Good morning," she mumbled, burying her head into the crook of my neck.

"Morning," I replied, letting a smile spread across my face.

Beside me, Clary stretched, and the feel of her body moving against mine, even slightly, brought back memories from the night before, and sent my pulse hammering through my veins again.

It was as if she sensed what she did to me – either that or she simply heard, my heart wasn't exactly silent, far from it in fact – she smiled at me knowingly, blush colouring her cheeks.

"What time is it?" She asked sleepily.

"A little after seven," I replied.

"You should get up; Maxie knows you have training this morning, she'll be waiting."

"You just want the bed to yourself, don't you?" I asked jokingly.

"I am planning on going back to sleep, but I probably won't be able to without you, so I basically plan to just lie here for a while until I can be bothered to go get coffee," she said, rolling onto her back.

I got up grabbing yesterday's jeans off the floor and shoving them on. "I'll bring you some later," I said, bending down to kiss her cheek tenderly before grabbing a shirt and pulling it on.

I stood at the window, admiring the Manhattan skyline as I did my shirt up, but I couldn't help glancing behind me at the much more spectacular view; Clary had turned away from the sunlight and it now glowed on her bare back, highlighting the tiny scars left from twenty years of being a Shadowhunter. I had to remember to breathe. In and out I told myself, but to no avail. She was breathtaking.

My hand hesitated on the door knob on the way out, a part of me totally unwilling to leave, the more rational part telling me that my daughter was waiting. I turned, and headed back into the room, just to close the curtains though. Now she might have a small chance of sleeping.

I tried not to look back as I left; I knew the contentment would be too much – that and the small smile that always crossed her lips when I did this on other days – and I wouldn't want to leave unless I knew she was coming with me.

As I made my way towards the training room I wish I'd thought to grab shoes, or even socks, the floor was icy cold. I stepped up the pace a little, remembering that the training room was carpeted.

When I arrived I inclined an ear to the door to hear if anyone was inside; silence, but Maxie had been known to be stealthy. Still, I opened the doors expecting to see the room empty, but as predicted by Clary, there was Maxie, back to me. She turned around as I entered, and in her hand was a steaming cup of coffee. I couldn't help but laugh. Like mother like daughter I thought to myself as I closed the doors behind me.

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Maxine's POV

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I don't know why dad was laughing at me, he knows as well as anyone in this house that I need my coffee in the morning, especially if he expects me to start a training session at 7:30.

I had been surprised when I had walked in to find the room empty, but no sooner had I closed the doors, and crossed the room to get the mats out, had dad walked in.

"So what are we doing today?" I asked, setting my coffee down.

"Not sure yet. If I'm honest, I'm actually running out of things to teach you. You've learnt everything so quickly; I'm not sure why I'm still bothering. You could probably beat me if you put your mind to it – and I've gone up against greater demons," he admitted.

"You really think I could beat you?" I asked, sure my eyes were popping, but it wasn't like dad to admit something like that; even to me. "Wow. Erm...thanks dad. So," I paused, not sure whether to ask or not; "can I go? Since I've learnt everything..."

"You're not getting off that easy I'm afraid." He chuckled seeing the look of disappointment on my face. "You still have to practice. Grab a staff. And, you wouldn't happen to have something you could use as a blindfold, do you?"

"Blindfold?" I asked sceptically.

"Injuries can be serious sometimes; you need to know how to use your senses to the best of your ability – that includes hearing. Visibility isn't always good, sometimes due to injury and contrary to what your mother thinks, there isn't always time to draw an Iratze." He said sarcastically.

"Okay I can see how mom might think that, but I haven't forgotten my training, dad. That's why you did all that endurance stuff when I was fifteen right? To help me cope with injuries?" He smiled so I assumed I was right. "Okay, I'll go get a scarf or something, be right back," I said on my way out the room.

It took me the time it takes me to walk to my room to realise I didn't really own anything that would be suitable for a blindfold, so I made a detour to Isabelle's room. She was bound to have something.

I knocked like I would at a suitable hour, and then winced as I remembered how early it was. I prepared for the look she was bound to give me for waking her up, but true to aunt Isabelle, she looked like she'd only just got back home. The black kohl around her eyes was smudged, the glitter that had probably only meant to decorate her lids had journeyed up to her brow and down to under her cheekbones. Her hair stuck up at odd angles all around her head.

"Clary," she asked distantly, rubbing her eyes. That didn't help with her make-up.

"No, it's Maxie," I said, confusion in my tone.

"Oh, sorry; Faerie party," she said by a way of explanation. "I'm a little out of it," she said, looking like she was about to pass out. "What do want? Isn't it a little early for you to be up?"

"Training with dad," I stated simply.

"Ahh; he's still a morning person then."

"Yup." I yawned. "Do you have anything I could use for a blindfold? He's testing my hearing," I explained.

"Sure hang on." She was barely coherent, her voice slurring. I would tell everyone to not disturb her today.

Her room looked like a bomb had hit it; and that was just the small part I could see from where the door had fallen open. Had the party been in her room? It certainly looked that way. She returned then with a gold silk scarf in her hand.

"That's the best I got."

"Thanks aunt Isabelle," I said, taking the scarf from her.

"I don't know why you call me that. What's wrong with Izzy? It's not like I'm your biological aunt."

Had she been paying attention, she would have seen the look of shock on my face, my mouth fall open... As it was she just closed the door on me like she hadn't said a thing wrong.

What did she mean, not my biological aunt? How could she not be? _I have to ask dad_, I thought. But as much as I wanted to run back – the sooner to know the answer – my feet moved sluggishly beneath me, and I made my way back in a daze.


	4. Question

_Jace's POV_

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As I watched Maxie leave the room, I had the feeling she would be a while – probably trying to wake herself up; the angel knows she's not a morning person – so I took the oppertunity to go get Clary her coffee like I told her I would.

I rushed through the corridors, the cold shocking my bare feet. I hoped the kitchen would be warmer but, if possible, the kitchen floor seemed even colder than the rest of the Institute, and I was thankful that Maxie had already made the coffee, so all I had to do was pour it in a mug.

I warmed my hands – and tried to spread the heat to the rest of my body – as I made the familiar walk back to the room which I shared with Clary; have shared with Clary since I was seventeen.

I opened the door as quietly as possible then pushed it almost shut behind me, thinking that she would have gone back to sleep, but the bed was empty. I panicked for about a second but then the door to the bathroom opened and Clary walked out.

The world could have ended and I wouldn't have noticed. If she'd been breathtaking this morning, it was nothing compared to how she looked now. Her skin shimmered with the succulence left over from her shower and her hair was a cloud of soft damp curls that fell all around her. Her eyes lit up when she saw me looking, and her cheeks turned my favourite shade of pink. She was glowing.

I could never seem to help but smile whenever I was in Clary's presence these days. "I got coffee," I told her, holding up the mug as evidence. "Took the oppertunity while Maxie's getting a blindfold."

"Blindfold?" She asked, confused; but then she caught the scent of coffee. "Mmm, lovely." She said as she took the mug from me. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked accusingly. "You know full well that if you close the door properly you'll be late back to training."

"That was the plan," I said closing the door anyway. I walked over to her and pulled her roughly against me, bringing her lips to mine.

I heard the cup smash as it hit the ground, I probably could have caught it if I'd wanted to, but I didn't care. I was lost. And no matter how close I held Clary against me, it still never seemed enough. It mustn't have been enough for her either as her hands grappled for something to hold so she could pull me closer. She eventually settled on my hair and wrapped her fingers firmly in it in an effort to crush my mouth more fiercely against hers. But despite that, afterwards, she chose to pull away.

"Jace," she whispered, breathless, panting in an effort to draw in air. "Maxie," she reminded me a little louder, pulling away further so she could eye me down.

"I'm sure she won't mind," I said moving to trail a line of soft kisses down the side of her neck.

"_Jace_," she moaned, her defences weakening. I took my chance to act; kissing her soft lips once again.

My hands which had been at her waist moved up her back and came to rest just under her shoulder blades. I grabbed the edge of the towel and she stopped breathing in my arms.

"If you want me to stop you'll have to tell me so. And mean it," I told her teasingly, knowing that she very rarely told me to stop. I started to ease the towel away from her.

I nearly had it undone when she said; "Jace; stop." She sounded so unwilling to believe what she was asking me. But she'd managed something, so I relented.

"Later; I promise," I whispered in her ear before stepping away from her. I turned and winked once before leaving the room; grabbing boots and socks on the way out. I stopped outside the door and shoved them on before walking back to the training room; feeling as if a part of me had been left behind.

As predicted by Clary, and proving me wrong once again, Maxie was already there by the time I got back. She had her back to me again, but I thought she looked sad – even from behind – as her shoulders were hunched; her hand went to her face before she turned around.

Her eyes were slightly red, and as much as I wanted to know what was upsetting her, she had developed my old habit of masking her feelings when she didn't want them known, and something in her expression told me that if she did want me to know, she would tell me.

"Found a blindfold?" I asked.

She nodded; a small, grateful smile on her face. She pulled a scarf out of her pocket.

"Okay, let's get started," I said, and she turned to make preparations. "Maxie?" I asked. She looked back at me over her shoulder. "How opposed would you be to making this a little more difficult?"

_

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_

Maxine's POV

* * *

I can't believe dad found me crying, especially over something a zoned-out Izzy had said. I didn't even know if it was true. But something inside me told me that it was. It's not like dad looks much like Maryse. Although I suppose he could have looked like grandpa Robert. I've never really seen a picture of him to compare. I hoped that was the case and tried to forget about it. Worst comes to worst maybe dad's just adopted.

"Maxie, climb on," my dad told me, interrupting my thoughts for a second. "I'll set it up then jump on."

My dad had the chessboard installed when I was thirteen. And it was basically a...well, a giant chessboard I suppose; except it was rigged to the ceiling, so was currently hovering at about 15ft from the ground. Also it was more of just an outline really; the holes slightly smaller – about a foot square – so that if you missed a step, you were pretty much guaranteed to break something when your leg fell down the hole.

Back then he had used it to teach me balance, increasing the height as I improved; right now, he was using it to test me. I didn't mind though. It was a welcome distraction; since I was blindfolded. That and the fact the he expected me to fight him; using only my hearing to guide me out of harm's way. Shame it all came so easily to me really, I met shot after shot that he threw at me; I'd rather hoped it would be harder so I had to use all my focus, as it was; there was still plenty of room in my brain to think about and dwell on what Izzy had said. I had to ask dad; it was driving me crazy.

"Dad; I have to ask –" I tried to say.

"Ask me later honey. Right now; pin me." He said, sounding cocky.

Fine; if that's what he wanted, but it was almost too easy. I don't know why he sounded like he was winning; he was right behind me. I would take the oppertunity to end this quickly; then he would answer my question.

The staff felt light in my hands as I spun on my left leg, swinging the right end around in an arc, striking him in the chest. Although my aim was true, and took him down hard, my distractions got to me, and I lost my footing. My right leg slipped from one side and my ankle smashed into the other, followed by the rest of my leg.

I heard the breaks the same time I felt them; one by one, pain after pain. I'd speculate my scream was still audible blocks away. My mom had burst through the door within seconds, and her face was such a fierce mixture of shock, worry and pain...then anger.

"_Jace_!" Another time I would have found it funny how she instinctually blamed him. "What the _hell _were you _thinking_? Taking her up there when she was _blindfolded!" _She screamed exasperated.

"I'll be fin-" I tried to reassure her but she looked so livid that the words died on my tongue.

"Do _not,_ say that you are _fine_," she said slowly enunciating each world carefully. "You did not sound _fine_ a minute ago."

I couldn't recall ever seeing mom like this before, even when I've been hurt in the past she's never been this upset. Even dad looked worried. Thankfully she left to go get help, so we weren't pinned under her gaze for long.

My dad bent down over me. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, your mom's right. What was I thinking? Being blindfolded up here does sound pretty stupid now. I'm sorry honey," he said again.

"It's fin-" I decided he would probably react just as mom had at the world fine so I changed to 'okay'. "Really; I was just distracted. Focusing so much on other things and how I struck you that I forgot to watch my footing. Good thing I wasn't near the edge huh?" I said in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work. He was still beating himself up. _It's my fault,_ I wanted to tell him; _I should have been focusing, not worrying about Izzy. _"Dad, I'm okay really. The break sounded clean. It'll heal better right? It was just the initial pain which made me scream. It's basically just throbbing now." _Though rather painfully, _I added silently. He didn't need to know that; and I was good at hiding pain – physical pain anyway.

He still didn't look happy but at least he relaxed a little bit, although his expression was still tense. Mom came back in then; Magnus hot on her tail. He was just finishing the knot on his fuchsia pink, silk kimono. He was wearing his hair down for once though there was still the faint shimmer of glitter.

"Can you please get her down and to her room without jostling her?" She demanded. Oh, I hadn't even thought of getting down. _Good thing it's a weekday,_ I thought. Him and Alec usually disappear of to his – _there_ – apartment at the weekend; returning only if there's an emergency.

"You got me out of bed for this?" he asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "It's almost too easy," he said the tell-tale blue sparks dancing around his finger tips.

It didn't take long. I was soon hovering about four feet off the floor. It was a little strange. Dad jumped down after me. I sensed his impatience at the time it took to _walk_ my room, I got the feeling he wanted to run. The pace was still brisk though and I soon felt the familiar bedcover beneath me.

"Would an _Iratze_ work on a break that bad?" I heard my mom ask, as she gently put a pillow under my ankle and calf and another under my thigh; where all the brakes were. I tried not to wince.

"It couldn't make it worse," dad replied. "You'd better do it though. She'll need the extra strength."

"Shouldn't I do it then?" I joked. Ouch. They both shot me a look. Too early for jokes then.

"Hold still honey, I'll try and be gentle," my mom tried to reassure me.

I felt the memorable sting, and had to lock my teeth to stop from screaming again as the slight pressure sent bolts of pain through my whole leg; but my back still arched slightly, my head pushing back into my pillow; my hands knotted into the sheet at my side. I didn't scream though; screaming doesn't do any good. That had been part of my endurance training.

That was the only part of it I got to test though, as I suspected my mom had snuck a calming rune on me, because when she was finished I felt my whole body start to relax against my will, my eyes feeling heavy.

"Mom!" Damn it, I'd meant to sound angry and accusing, instead my voice came out all _dreamily_. And it wasn't long before my eyes fell shut.

_

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Clary's POV

* * *

I stayed with Maxie all day; sitting in an armchair that I moved to the side of her bed. Jace had left shortly after her eyes had shut. I found out off Alec, when he came in to check on her, that he had locked himself in the training room for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, the loud bangs and crashes giving his position away.

Apparently, he'd been destroying the chessboard. Alec said it had looked like he'd pulled it apart with his bare hands till all that remained were splinters. He'd gone out after that, seeking something else to destroy to relieve the last of his frustration. Normally I didn't mind when he went out alone. But today he would be distracted and I wished he'd taken someone with him.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but it was dark when I woke up to find myself being carried by a pair of strong arms. I didn't need to look to see who it was. The smell gave him away. It was Jace, fresh from showering; his natural scent floating amongst the moisture in the air.

Although I didn't need to look to see who it was, I looked anyway to see how much damage had been done. It wasn't that bad, which surprised me; just minor bruising on the side of his face. My hand automatically reached up to soothe it, and he smiled down at me, having not realised I was awake before now.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

"Morning?" I asked, disorientated.

"It was nearly midnight when I got back, it'll be after that by now," he explained.

I sighed, snuggling into him. I didn't particularly care what time it was. I was just glad to have him back. I was asleep again long before my head hit the pillow.


	5. Confessions

_Okay rating's gone up to T for this chapter. It was originally an M but I didn't like it so I brought it down a bit. It's basically the same, just with some of the content removed._

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Clary's POV

* * *

The sun was just starting to rise when I woke up; most of the room was still in shadow, which made me think that last night – or rather this morning – was a dream. I sat up sharply, finding myself short of breath. What if something had happened to Jace? My eyes darted around the room. No sign of life. No sound emerged from the bathroom either. Thankfully my hand landed on a piece of paper, folded once, where Jace should be. My heart rate slowed immensely.

_Gone out to get breakfast. Sorry if you wake before I'm back. I know I worry you. I just hope you find this before you start to panic. I'll try and be quick. Jace x._

I relaxed then, reassured that he was safe. I caught sight of my clothes as I sat up to put the note on my bedside table and I looked down to find I was wearing the oversized, baby pink, cotton shirt which I often wore to bed; Jace must have put me in it last night.

He burst through the door then, Starbucks in one hand, a bag of baked goods in the other. He smiled at the remains of my hectic flush. "Breakfast in bed sound good?" He asked, kicking off his boots.

"Great," I said putting a hand to my hair to try and tame the masses. Jace saw my attempt though and put the food down so he could stop me. According to him, my hair always looked adorable in the morning. He jumped on the bed and grabbed my wrists.

"Please," I begged, trying to get one of hands free. But it was no use; he had my wrists tightly in his grasp, and a look was plain in his eyes.

I smiled, biting my lip. "What about breakfast?"

"I'm not that kind of hungry yet," he said whilst he began trailing kisses from under my ear to my collarbone, then back up to my lips.

I started work on undoing the buttons of his shirt. I half missed the Jace who used to live in cotton tee shirts – simply for the ease of pulling them off – but button downs had their advantages too, I found, as I had to kneel and stretch upwards to peel it off him, bringing our chests together.

Jace – always eager for the action to start – decided that undoing the buttons on my shirt was too time consuming, and he all but ripped it off me; revealing the white lace bar underneath. He became tender then; kissing my jaw, my neck, my collarbone; and then made a path all the way down to my stomach as I lay back down in sync with his kisses. My back arched with pleasure as his hands traced patterns across my ribs.

I pulled him back up to me, eager for his mouth on mine. He obliged, his hands tangling themselves in my hair. Happy that he would stay put for a little while, my hands started moving down his chest, over his abdomen, and came to rest on his hips. I ran my thumb over the hollow, just below where the bone jutted out and then continued on my mission of discarding his jeans.

I managed to push them down to about mid-thigh before using my feet to push them all the way off. Now there was only underwear in the way; though Jace soon dealt with that. My breathing was ragged, a soft moan escaping as I exhaled. I wound my legs round him, and placed one of my hands on his lower back to try and hold him closer against me – although I'm not entirely sure that was possible. My other hand was around his neck, holding him to my throat; he moaned my name softly in my ear.

It was always said in the overly romantic clichés, that when you made love to the right person, you became one. I never thought I'd believe that. But right here, right now, with Jace, I can't believe I'd ever doubted it. There was no _me_ or _him_ when we were together like this; there was only _us_. And it was glorious.

I was glad, when we moved to the Institute as a couple that Jace chose us a room away from everyone else, apparently the walls weren't soundproof; and no one should have to hear us right now. My pleasure escaped in a multitude of forms, moaning, screaming, or simply saying his name; over and over. My breathing was out of control and I simply savoured oxygen when it was granted.

Jace and I had decided to stop using protection a few months ago; saying that if I got pregnant again then it'd be beautiful, but if not then...that was that. It was Jace who'd gotten me to break that last barrier and give in; because although he loved our daughter entirely, I know a part of him has always longed for a son; and I wanted to give him that.

I rolled off of him afterwards, but kept my left leg thrown across his hips. His hand moved to trace patterns on my thigh with his thumb, his fingers dancing along my skin making it tingle wherever he touched me. I was always euphoric after being with Jace, unable to keep a smile off my face. I looked up at him.

"You're hungry aren't you?" He asked smiling. I blushed, biting my lip. "Typical," he moaned, but continued to get up and fetch the food back to bed with him.

I took a moment to savour him, since he didn't bother to shove anything on. The muscular build of his shoulders, the curve of his spine. I looked him up and down, accentuating the action as he turned around; he laughed when he noticed. I pulled the sheet back up around us as he sat back down, and I curled into his side, his arm coming around me.

"Coffee for my lady," he said handing me the Starbucks, and I took it graciously.

_

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Isabelle's POV

* * *

_I'm getting too old for this_; _then again, that was one _heck _of a Faerie party. Even by their standards_. _Maybe it was something I drank_, I considered. I mean, it doesn't usually take me a _full day_ to recover. I'm Isabelle Lightwood, for the Angel's sake, I don't do recovery. Especially a _whole day_ of it.

But here I was, hair a mess, panda eyes, waiting on coffee. Alec and Magnus had drunk the last batch. They'd been here when I got up, Alec had laughed when he saw the state I was in, and Magnus had offered to make me over. But I declined, saying that all I wanted was coffee. They'd stayed for a while, filling me in on what I missed, although I'm surprised I didn't hear by the sounds of it. Apparently Maxie had been quite _loud_ when she broke her leg. Not that I blamed her. Breaks were painful.

_Maxie_. Her name had brought back memories from the day before. Alec and Magnus had seen my expression, assumed I was going to throw up, made some lame excuse, then headed back to their room for the morning.

I can't believe I slipped up like I did. Jace was going to _kill_ me. It had been the first thing he'd done after he found out Clary was pregnant, and we had all promised on the spot. We loved Maxie, she was a breath of air that we all needed. Not a single one of us wanted her to be tarnished by learning of her connection to Valentine.

_Finally; coffee_. I greedily grabbed the biggest mug I could find, and emptied as much of the pot as I could into it. I was seconds away from savouring its rich taste, when who else but Jace, chose to sneak up behind me.

"Good morning, Isabelle," he said cheerfully, leaning forwards to kiss my cheek. Needless to say I almost dropped the cup I was holding.

"Someone's happy," I said shakily. "Still got the magic, huh?"

He chuckled at my question, throwing the remains of what looked like Starbucks and baked goods in the trash. It was only when he turned around and saw my face that he noticed something was wrong.

"Izzy, what's up? You look nervous; shaky. Like throw up nervous-shaky. Was it that party you hit? I heard it was insane; well it must have been. Lord knows I've never seen you take a full day to recover before."

"Yeah I guess it got me," I said, a little unsettled.

"Well...feel better!" He told me, already headed back out the room, probably back to Clary; those two never could get enough of each other.

The guilt bubbled up in my stomach, maybe I would throw up. I knew I had to tell Jace, and tell him now, before it was too late. I would take whatever he threw at me. I deserved it.

Deep breath. "Jace?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," he said, hovering by the door.

"I messed up," I confessed, hanging my head so I didn't have to look at him.

"No use saying that now Izzy," he told me, and my head shot up, panic coursing through me. Had Maxie already said something? "You will go to Faerie parties. Haven't you learnt by now?"

I released the breath I'd been holding, relaxing briefly. Then I remembered it wasn't over yet. "This isn't about the party," I admitted. "I messed up with Maxie," I said, hanging my head again.

"Messed up with Maxie how," he said cautiously. "Izzy," he said, anger colouring his manner. "Talk to me. Messed up with Maxie _how_?" He asked, striding over to me and grabbing me roughly by the shoulders; his face a mixture of worry and anger, although he was trying to make the latter the lesser of his emotions.

"I...I." How could I tell him? He would hate me.

"Izzy, please?" He asked; his voice full of desperation.

I had to tell him. Just get it over with Isabelle. "Okay." I told myself more than him. "I'd just gotten back from the party and I was seriously out of it. She asked me for something," I paused as I tried to remember _that_ part of the morning. "A blindfold; she asked for a blindfold. So I got her it and she said 'thanks aunt Isabelle' and then I made the stupid mistake of asking her why she called me that, that I wasn't her _biological_ aunt." I finished, my anger at myself slipping into my tone.

Jace just looked dazed. He let go of my shoulders, suddenly needing the counter for support.

"I'm so sorry Jace. I don't know what I was thinking. Well, obviously I wasn't thinking but –" He raised a hand cutting me off.

"What exactly did you tell her?" He asked, enunciating each syllable slowly. The effort he was putting into keeping his voice calm was clear in the way he said it.

"That's all, I swear," I begged him to believe me.

"Izzy, are you sure?" He sounded frantic.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure." I assured him.

"That's not too bad then," he told me. "At least it's fixable." I hoped he would stop there, but he noticed me relaxing my position. "This doesn't mean I've forgiven you, Izzy. Far from it," he threw at me. And with that he stormed out the room.

_

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Jace's POV

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I can't believe Izzy had messed up this badly. Trust her to be the one to crack. I was fuming as I made my way to Maxie's room. No wonder she was distracted yesterday; that was probably why she was crying too. I tried to stop the next wave of anger as it threatened to engulf me. I didn't want to be mad at Izzy; not really. She messed up; but like I said, it was fixable. I hoped. I _prayed_; as Maxie's door loomed up in front of me.

I knocked softly and tried to compose myself. "Maxie, honey, it's your dad. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," I heard from the other side of the door, so I entered, closing the door behind me.

"Hey you can walk," I said, surprised she was on two feet.

"More like limp, dad. It still throbs if I put too much pressure on it," she told me, climbing back into bed.

Now came the hard part. I wished she wouldn't get upset again; the truth can be painful. "So..." I paused, building myself up to the task of telling her. This was not something I ever wanted her to know. "I talked to your aunt –," she flinched away from the word. "Izzy. I talked to Izzy. She told me what she said yesterday. That's what you were gonna ask me about, right?"

"Yes! How could you not tell me?" She asked, unleashing the full force of her pain and confusion as she looked me straight in the eyes. It was enough to kill me. I couldn't lie to her now. Well I would still have to lie a little, but I would try to make it harmless.

"My name isn't Lightwood," I admitted; _keep going Jace_. "I came to the Lightwoods when I was ten; after the death of my father. My mother had died giving birth to me." Technically true...almost. "My father's name was..." Michael Wayland or Stephen Herondale? Better remain true to my genes. "...Stephen Herondale; my mother's name had been Céline." She seemed to believe me, or at the least she was letting me talk. I only wished I hadn't paused, maybe she would just interpret it as pain through, from bad memories.

"I guess I'd felt like a Lightwood ever since I moved in with them, but oddly enough it wasn't till after I met your mom that I started calling myself Lightwood. I'd kept Herondale up until then. I'm so sorry we didn't tell you before now. You have a right to know. It just never seemed important." I hoped my attempt of shrugging it off would rub off onto her; even if it was just a small hope. You didn't have to know her well to know that this was something she wasn't going to get over quickly.

"I'm not really sure why I kept Herondale really," I explained. "My father..." I had to pause; I couldn't help the tension in my body whenever I thought of the man who raised me. "My father, although he taught me some important lessons, he wasn't really much of a parent; and I never really felt I belonged with him." It felt strange to finally be telling her the truth; or some of the truth anyway. "When I met Clary it was the first time I ever felt I belonged somewhere."

"Wow," I chuckled at her response. "Seriously dad, that's...I mean I know you love mom but I never knew how much until now. You should have heard yourself say that. It was kind of beautiful." It was no use I had to laugh; she sounded so awkward but at the same time almost..._proud_?

"You okay?" I asked her; I mean she seemed okay but you just never know with woman.

"Yeah, I see why you didn't tell me. It's not actually that big of a deal, I guess it was just the way I found out," she said; she mostly seemed fine – although there was something off about her – but I told myself it was just the after effects of having all this dumped on her, so I felt okay leaving.

"Okay, well I'm gonna go get your mother out of bed...Or not," I joked.

"Ew gross, dad, so did not need to know that."

I was laughing wholly as I made my way back to Clary and, although I'd only been joking with Maxie, it was awfully tempting to go back to bed with Clary. Shame the back of my mind was nagging me about that something.

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Clary's POV

* * *

_Where's Jace_? I was laid in bed staring up at the ceiling, my arms resting on top of the sheet, which was wrapped around my chest. _Speak of the Devil_, I thought as I heard him fumble with the door handle.

"Finally," I sighed as he closed the door behind him. He came and sat on the edge of the bed, back to me, and I sat up, letting the sheet drop to my waist. "How long does it take to put something in the trash?" I asked jokingly, my arms wrapping around him.

I began kissing his neck when he didn't respond, my hands moving to lift the hem of his shirt so I could caress his stomach. My hands moved upwards onto his chest and my kisses ended at the base of his neck. Something was wrong.

"Jace, what's up," I asked, resting my chin on his shoulder. "Normally you would have ravaged me by now," I teased. "You do know I'm still naked right?"

He laughed once. "At last a response. Jace what's wrong, you're worrying me," I said, pulling my hands out from his shirt. I saw the rise and fall of his shoulders as he sighed. I grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around me again.

"I'm worried about Maxie," he confessed. "Izzy messed up, Clary."

_Oh god_. I froze. "Tell me what happened," I demanded.

"I dealt with it, everything's fine now, you don't have to worry."

"Jace, you know as well as I do that that's not possible. Now talk."

He proceeded to tell me what had happened with Izzy, and my nails began to dig into my hands through the sheet. "How is she?" I asked hesitantly. My heart was pounding. Maybe I wasn't as ready for her to know our past as I thought I'd been.

"Confused, mostly. That's why she fell yesterday; she was distracted, obviously."

"What did you tell her?" I enquired, my nails now digging in painfully.

"I told her the truth; or as close to the truth as I could. I'm sick of lying to her Clary!" He said, exasperated. "The only difference I made was I used Stephen Herondale's name instead of-"

"Please don't say his name," I said softly, cutting him off.

He half turned towards me, offering me his arm, and I took it, bringing my legs around so I was curled up at his side with my legs across his, tangled in the sheet. He put his hand on my thigh and started to create soothing movements with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he said tenderly, his other hand stroking my hair. I smiled slightly at the habit he'd picked up from me. To think it used to annoy him...

"Did she believe you? Did she link Herondale with Amatis?" I asked anxiously, I almost didn't want to hear the answer.

"No. At least I don't think she did so she most likely believed me, but I'll probably feel better after you've talked to her; you can read her better than me. Don't go straight away though, no need to add to her suspicions. Bring her lunch or something."

"Why? She still of her feet?" I asked concerned.

"No; she can walk, but she said it still hurts if she puts too much pressure on it."

I sighed; I didn't want to think about this, not now. I'd deal with it later. All I wanted was my morning with Jace back. It seemed like it was yesterday, rather than twenty minutes ago.

"As important as this is," I said leaning away from him. "Jace, I don't want to think about this right now. Can we please deal with this later? Right now, all I want, is you," I said whilst putting my arms round his neck. I pulled myself up and repeated his words from the other night; "I find myself in need of a distraction."

I felt him smile so I didn't move, my hands working on undoing his shirt, while his ran up and down my spine.

"Care to join me for a shower?" He asked formally.

"I'd love to," I replied. He grabbed me firmly by the waist and stood up, pulling me with him; my legs locking round him in the process. I brought my lips to his in fierce desperation. He held me firmly under my arms, but must have felt the need to be closer, as he switched to wrapping one of his arms around me, the other went to the back of my neck; making it nearly impossible for me to pull away from him – not that I wanted to.

I'm not sure when he lost his jeans, or when I lost the sheet; I was oblivious to everything that wasn't his lips on mine and his arms holding me ever closer. The next thing I was aware of was the cold of the shower tiles on my back. I cried out, the cold shocking me, although it didn't hold the majority of my attention. Jace was kissing my neck; my hands held onto his shoulders firmly and I tried to stop myself from digging my nails in.

My breathing was becoming erratic. I felt completely out of control; but at the same time, I was so entirely focussed in the moment.

* * *

It was some time later when we emerged; Jace laughing playfully as he tried to steal my towel away from me.

"Aren't you sick of me yet?" I asked teasingly.

"Never," he said, kissing the end of my nose whilst winning the battle over my towel.

"Jace! Give me my towel back; I have to get dried off." I couldn't help but laugh. Here was my husband, the 38 year old, and he still thought it was funny to leave me standing there naked. "Jace, please? It's cold and I'm wet."

"I am fully aware of that Clary," he smirked, looking me up and down blatantly.

That did it; I threw a pillow at him, which he of course managed to dodge to my disappointment.

"Here," he threw my towel back. "I just like to watch you squirm for a bit," he said whilst making the unfortunate mistake of turning his back on me. I threw another pillow and this one hit him squarely in the back of the head.

"Humph," I said smugly as I made my way to my own closet.

It was about half an hour later that I finally made it to the kitchen. Now, what to get Maxie? I decided to humour her with the patient routine; chicken soup and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This was bound to cause her to roll her eyes at me.

I was glad I spent more time with Jace. He was about the only thing that could distract me long enough for me to calm down, and I felt much better than I would have done as I made my way to Maxie's room.

I balanced the tray in one arm and knocked twice with my free hand. "Come in mom," I heard her say from the other side of the door. Deep breath; here goes.

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Maxine's POV

* * *

I wondered when mom would come see me as reinforcement, it didn't take long. First oppertunity she could take without being too suspicious and there she was; tray laden. She sat it down on my bedside table and then proceeded to sit in the armchair from the other day.

"Since when do you bring me lunch?" I asked sceptically, whilst pulling myself up a little, I had been laid down slightly, my sketchpad resting against my knees; I moved it to one side.

"Since my baby girl broke her ankle so can't really get it herself," she replied, humouring me.

I looked at what she brought me; chicken soup and peanut and jelly. I had to stifle a laugh; she was so typical mom-ish. I grabbed a sandwich and began to nibble at it.

"So how are you today? Did my rune work okay?" She asked, keeping it light. Too bad I didn't want it light, I had questions for her.

"Mom, you can drop the act. I know dad will have told you everything." That made her tense.

She sighed. "You can tell huh?" She asked, relaxing, seeing as there was no point in feigning ignorance anymore. Her reaction had been too obvious to be covered up.

"I know you two well; don't seem so surprised."

I wasn't sure how to go about asking her what I wanted. I was pretty sure she would answer, but I needed to be careful how I asked to get the best response. I was pretty sure my dad had been truthful, but there was something nagging me whenever I thought about his tale.

"Mom?" I asked; going for the hurt and confusion that had seemed to work on him. "Is Luke your real dad...or..? You don't look anything like him..." I trailed off, letting it hang, looking down at the bed cover.

It worked, her hand stretched out toward me. "Aw, honey. You're probably so confused right now, but yes, Luke is my dad. My maiden name was Garroway, before I married your dad, then I changed it to Lightwood and your grandma's was Fray before she married your grandpa."

I was happy she'd told me the truth. "Are you sure?" I asked jokingly, chuckling.

She smiled, laughing off my question, and that nagging feeling that I'd gotten with dad came back to me. And some part of me suspected that wasn't it.

She stood up; mission accomplished I guess. "You know where I'll be if you need anything else," she told me.

"Your studio," I said mockingly.

Mom spent nearly all her free time in her studio. My dad had had the greenhouse converted as an anniversary present. The only foliage that remained in the main space – they had cordoned off a small area for my teaching – was this bush which was planted next to this marble bench in the middle of the room. I don't know why that was the only thing he kept, but whenever I asked them they would just get this dreamy look in their eyes and it was kind of hard to get a coherent answer.

She'd painted so many beautiful landscapes of the skyline from up their; one she had even done for me. It was of the sunset in fall, and it now hung in my room; I often stared at it, mesmerised by the thousands of colours.

She smiled at me. "I'll come check on you later honey," she said softly, stroking my hair before departing.

I sighed when she was gone. Why couldn't I believe them? I needed to talk to someone who wouldn't lie to me; someone who had been there for it all; knew everything they were hiding. I planned my escape.


	6. Pursuit

_This chapter's had more re-work than the rest so far, including the addition of a cute – at least I think it's cute – Malec scene that wasn't in the original draft. It just came to me as I was editing. As always; hope you enjoy. _

* * *

_Clary's POV_

* * *

"It's beautiful; as always. Just like you," said Jace, kissing the top of my head. I secretly liked the fact that he didn't have to bend down to reach me when I was sat on my art stool, like he would if I were standing.

"Thank you for the compliments," I said smiling, he couldn't see my smile though, he'd already sat down on the bench behind me.

I'd been thrilled when he'd walked me up to the old greenhouse and I saw what he'd done with it. I was a little wary at first. Nobody really went up there much ever since Hodge... But now it was my sanctuary. The glass walls gave me an expansive view of the city and I was never short on inspiration for my latest masterpiece.

"I started after I saw Maxie," I told him, "the one in her room looked lonely; I thought I'd make a whole collage type thing on her wall."I explained putting the oil pastel down. I turned on my stool to face him. "Oh no," I said; warning him.

"What?" He asked innocently, stalking towards me. He stopped in front of me, putting his hands on my waist.

"You're wearing white," I pointed out; "and I've been working with oil pastels," I held my hands up as evidence; they were covered in residue.

"Doesn't matter," he said moving closer so my hands were rested against his chest; he'd nudged my knees apart and his hips pressed against the inside of my thighs. "I never really liked this shirt." Then he kissed me effectively ending my argument. My hands moved from his chest to his sides and then continued up to his shoulders, so I could pull him towards me; my legs wrapped around him.

"You know-I'd love to-but," I managed between kisses, not really wanting to stop.

He sighed, pulling away slightly. "But..." He said, frustrated.

"I was gonna check on Maxie again, she _seemed_ fine before. I wanted to make sure..." I told him reluctantly. Maxie always seemed to get in the way whenever I wanted Jace lately. Maybe it wasn't a _completely _bad thing though; we were all over each other _all the time_ at the minute. We should probably take a break..._should_, but probably won't.

"You could come with me," I suggested unable to push him away.

"Always," he said simply, stepping back and offering his hand; I took it, jumping down from my stool.

I had to drag Jace down the stairs, but him being stronger than me, managed to pull me back to him more than a few times, making the whole journey take three times longer than it should have done. When the last few steps were in sight he pushed me against the wall, consuming my mouth with his. Somehow I managed to regain thought processing long enough to push him backwards, so he stumbled down the last few steps, falling out into the hallway.

"Somebody had fun; or did Magnus get you?" I heard from behind us.

Jace rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Alec," he said condescendingly, whilst turning round to face him.

"Well I thought so," he replied, looking smug. "Seriously though, he'd award your effort. Probably wear it himself." He finished, smirking.

Beside me I could tell Jace was starting to get annoyed. Probably because Alec just killed the playful mood we had going.

"Alec," I warned him. "I would stop before he finds something heavy to throw at you."

Jace got a look in his eye then started to take his shirt off. "Jace? What are you-" I started to ask.

"Here," he said throwing Alec the shirt. "Give it to him as a present."

Alec was stunned. I had to hand it to Jace; he was a piece of work. I bet Alec never saw _that_ coming. Boy wasn't his face a picture right now. He looked like a recently gay teenager again, afraid of how to act around Magnus.

Before he even had time to reply Jace had grabbed my hand and was tugging me down the corridor towards Maxie's room.

"What was that about? Not that I didn't enjoy seeing Alec's face when you started taking your shirt off-"

"And _that_; is precisely why I did it." He cocked an eyebrow at me. I had to laugh at him.

I knocked on her door. "Maxie?" My voice was more of a chuckle.

"Hey, I'll wait out here. You know how she gets uncomfortable when her dad struts about the place half naked." I laughed even harder at him.

"Maxie?" I pushed her door open. She wasn't in bed. I moved to check the bathroom, opening the door without knocking.

Nothing.

Oh no...

"Jace!" I cried out, worry in my tone; I turned round and he was right behind me.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, nervous, his hands reaching out at me resting on my head, my cheek; trying to soothe me. It wasn't working.

"She's gone," I whispered; and shock settled in as a permanent feature on my face.

I felt Jace grab me as I sagged. He sat me down in the armchair.

"Clary?" He was worried too; only for me, not our daughter. He didn't know her like I did.

"She's gone," I repeated.

He seemed to debate for a second – probably wanting me to be wrong – before he agreed with the assuredness in my voice. "Stay here," he told me – like I could do anything else. "I'll go...do something," he said hastily, stroking my hair again before departing.

I could only nod mutely.

_

* * *

_

Maxine's POV

* * *

"Ow!" I cried out, after landing on my bad ankle. So much for portalling being less painful than walking.

"Who's there?" I heard Simon ask. "Max?" He rounded the corner, a confused look on his face.

"Yeah, it's me," I said steadying myself. "You know I actually didn't see the point in portalling here because I thought you'd be out; but nope, trust you to be the only New Yorker that stays home on a Friday night."

"Yeah well, I don't go out and eat like normal people do," he retorted. "What are you doing here? Do your parents know you're out?" He asked, whilst turning around; he walked back into his living room and I followed him.

"No, they don't actually, which was kind of the whole point." I said solemnly, sitting down to his left on the sofa. I put my head back and closed my eyes.

"Max, what's wrong? Did you guys have a fight or...?" He'd shifted when I opened my eyes. He'd brought his left leg under himself and his head was in his hand, his arm resting on the back of the sofa. His right hand was placed on my forearm which was what had caused me to open my eyes. His eyes were full of concern and I suspected that he had the same protective edge for me that I did for him, because to him, I was the youngest; I was the one who needed protecting.

"No, we haven't fought, but it'll probably head that direction if they keep lying to me." My voice held a mixture of hurt and anger, but so far I was managing to keep my composure.

"Lying to you?" He asked dubiously.

"Yeah; they're hiding something from me and then lying to cover it up." I told him assuredly.

"So now they're hiding something." God he could be so condescending.

"Simon I'm serious! I swear they're hiding something. Something _you_ probably know about," I reminded him, "since you would be there when it happened; whatever _it_ was." I sighed, frustrated. I slunk down in my seat, my left leg crossing over my right and turned my head towards him, my eyes begging him to believe me. We weren't that far apart now.

He was just looking at me in a 'maybe she's going crazy' kind of way, with one of his eyebrows raised incredulously.

Why wouldn't he believe me? He knew it was true, I _know _he did. "Simon I've even asked them, and it feels like they tell me the truth, the whole truth; but then they'll do something and it makes me wonder if it was anything but the truth." I sighed. "Simon, please; you're my best friend."

I felt so lost. It must have shown because Simon reached his hand forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before resting it on my cheek. He looked me in the eyes. "Max; I think you need to talk to someone, a professional," he joked, laughing at me.

I shoved him, hard; he wasn't expecting it. He fell back into the cushions and I went with him, my hands pressing against his chest; my leg had also fallen in between his. My breath came out fast and I had trouble breathing back in again. I opened my mouth to say something but the same hand as before reached up and tucked the same strand of hair behind my ear; his hand resting on my neck, his thumb stroking the length of my jaw.

My stomach was doing somersaults and a strange kind of warmth was flowing through my whole body, lighting my nerves on fire so they seemed to prickle where Simon was touching me. Despite that I still managed to plaster a timid smile on my face. I leaned down tentatively, my eyes going from his to his lips then back again. He came up to meet me.

It didn't, strangely, feel weird kissing Simon. The hand that had been on my neck entangled itself in my hair, and the other which had been nowhere in particular ran down my spine coming to rest at the small of my back. Mine stayed pinned on his chest under my own weight.

The kiss deepened and I rolled slightly towards the edge of the sofa, causing him to hold me tighter; which had been my intention. I could also move my hands now and they both wrapped securely around his neck. I brought my knee up to his hip and his hand moved from my back, down the back of my thigh and grabbed my knee firmly. I moaned softly, my hips rolling slightly against his.

He pulled away and pressed his lips together. "This is wrong." He moved to sit up, so I got up off him, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

"Why? Because you were in love with my mom?" I asked him. Urgh I sounded so whiny, rejection did not suit me well. I came to a horrible realisation. "Oh god; were you thinking of her when you were kissing me?" I felt sick.

"No, of course not," he told me, appalled that I'd come to such a conclusion. "Your mom never kissed me like _that_," he finished, talking to himself more than me. "And it's not wrong because I was in love with her. It's wrong because...because..." He trailed off, searching. "You're like the ba–"

"Do _not_ call me a baby," I said sternly.

"Fine. But you're still youngest; I would be taking advantage," he tried to convince me. Instead it only angered me more.

"Take advantage. Take _advantage_!" My voice rose two octaves and I jumped up, throwing my arms about in exasperation. "Tell me Simon; how can you take advantage when I wanted tha- this," I corrected; "wanted this?" I asked, my voice softening – hurt flooding in. I pointed out the link between the two of us with my outstretched finger. My eyes started to well up and I fought back the tears; I would not cry in front of Simon. Not now. _Why didn't dad teach me endurance for _this_ pain?_

"Max," He said tenderly, standing up and reaching out toward me.

"Don't," I whispered backing away from him; could he hear the hurt in my voice as well as I could. I hoped not. "I have to go...I need to..." I was having difficulty speaking, my coherency lost. _I need to get out of here. _I walked away from him, shrugging him off and picking up the pace when he tried to stop me. I needed to escape. The portal was about to close. I just made it through, feeling relieved that he wouldn't be able to follow me.

_

* * *

_

Magnus's POV

* * *

"Don't take this the wrong way," I requested, popping my head round the bathroom door to speak to Alec who was currently laid on the bed, "cause you know I love you, but," I said, returning to the bathroom mirror, who's reflection held the majority of my attention; "don't reach _too _old an age; I'm not sure I fancy anymore wrinkles." I prodded at the stubborn crows eyes and raised my eyebrows to a scary level to see if they budged; no difference. "Do you know how much effort it takes to hide these ones?" I asked, sighing and reaching for my stash of anti-wrinkle and concealer products. We were supposed to be going to dinner and _no way_ was I going like this.

"I wish you wouldn't," Alec sighed; he was leant against the door. "Hide them I mean." He walked towards me and raised his hand, the tips of his fingers tracing the patterns; he could still give me shivers. "Do you have any idea how much I love you for this? How much it means to me? That you would go through all this just to be with me?" He'd stopped, and his hand now simply cupped my cheek, his eyes staring into mine. "Do I have to show you?" He asked, inclining an eyebrow.

I nodded my head slightly as I brought my lips to his; or I would have had he not brought his other hand up and used his hold to pull me down to him. I never got sick of this; the feel of Alec's lips against my own, the way he never thought twice about kissing me like this anymore, the flavour of his lips that was so uniquely Alec... I pushed him back into the door and began to ease his sweater up over his abdomen.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door, which was followed by the sounds of it being thrown open. "Do you two _have_ to be doing that _now_?"

I broke apart from Alec's lips and sighed heavily, turning my head towards the door. "No one said you had to watch," I told Jace.

"Jace, what's wrong?" Alec asked. I still had him pinned against the door; I stepped back so he could go comfort his brother who did look strangely anxious. I hadn't seen him look like this in years.

"Ma-Maxie's ran away;" I'd never seen him struggle for words before; "she's not in her room. Could you come with me, please? I have to get back to Clary," he was already half-in the hall as he said this.

Alec followed him without another word. I followed Alec. Don't get me wrong; besides Alec, and possibly his sister; Maxie was probably my favourite resident here. She was the perfect combination of her parents, though more like Clary than Jace, which was probably why I got on with her. Needless to say me and Jace still grinded against each other; he was one of the many reasons why me and Alex escaped for the weekend.

"Church," Jace addressed the cat who was sat licking it's paw at the end of the hall. "Can you take me to Maxie? And could you two go get our _darling _Isabelle? I'll meet you at Maxie's room," he called over his shoulder before disappearing round the corner.

"Okay, Church only knows where people are in the institute, why would Jace ask Church where she is? He said she ran away," Alec said beside me.

I took his hand as we headed in the direction of Izzy's room. "He's probably just double checking," I told him.

"And what was the 'darling' Isabelle comment supposed to mean?" He continued, almost cutting across me. I realised he wasn't really listening to me.

Still, I answered him. "I expect we'll find out soon enough."

_

* * *

_

Clary's POV

* * *

It didn't take Jace long; he was soon back outside her door and was conversing with Alec, Magnus and Isabelle. "She's very _fragile_ at the minute," I heard him say, most likely with a pointed look at Izzy. My heart went out to her, those looks could be ugly; and this wasn't her fault, she just helped the process. It had to happen sometime, though I wish it hadn't been today. "We need to find out if she's still here, and if she's not, find where she went to. Magnus could you do a tracking spell of some kind?" He continued. "I asked Church and he just brought me back here."

"It's no use. You won't find her." I said softly, they probably didn't even hear.

"Of course; I'll need something of hers...but you know that." Magnus said, walking into the room. "What's most special to her? Jace? Clary?"

"It's no use," I repeated, shifting my position for the first time since I sat down so I was sat a little straighter. "I scanned the room. She took everything remotely special with her. Or, you know, just hid it; her painting's gone," my voice broke on the last word, my eyes welling up as I spoke. "This place is huge, by the time we found anything to use she could be anywhere... Anything could have..."

"Shh, shh; it's going to be fine." Jace was in front of me, pulling me close. "I'll find her." He told me pulling away and looking me in the eyes, his hands cupping my face.

I was probably one bad thought away from being hysterical. I was starting to tremble slightly.

"I'll find her, I promise you, I will find her," he looked so helpless yet still managed to sound so fierce that it was hard not to believe him, but a part of me still knew we wouldn't find her; not if she didn't want to be found.

"How?" My voice sounded so hopeless; what was wrong with me? Didn't I have _any_ faith in him?

"The old fashioned way," he said. "It'll take longer, but I'll bring her home." I nodded, trying to convince myself to believe him. He switched to holding my hand and then took a seat on the chair arm. "Now the question is where would she go?"

"Somewhere busy?" Alec suggested. "Make it easier to hide in a crowd..."

"She'll have a lot on her mind," Izzy said quietly. "She'll want somewhere peaceful and familiar so she can think."

"We should phone around," I managed. Jace was the only one close enough to hear me. My voice sounded hoarse and I tried to work around the clamp that was holding my throat shut. "See if anybody's seen her, ask them to help search... Jace? Could you call my mom and dad? See if she went there. I can't deal...I...I can't face them right now...I-I need a friend; I'll call Simon," I said getting up and leaving the room.

I felt his eyes on me as I left, but I guess he understood that I needed a minute as he didn't follow me as I made my way... I didn't really know where, I just needed to think.

I eventually found my way to my studio and I collapsed on the bench. Deep breath. I looked around and suddenly realised this was the wrong place to come to; I wished I hadn't come here; the expanse of the skyline, knowing she was out there somewhere, I fought the next wave of tears and worked on steadying my breathing. I reached in my pocket for my cell phone and typed in the familiar number.

The dial tone sounded in my ear. One ring; two; three. _Come on Simon, _please.

"Hello," he sounded distracted.

"Hey, Simon, it's Clary. Maxi-Maxie's run away," I tried to keep the tears at bay so I could finish. "Have you seen her?"

"Erm, yeah; yes, she's here." He still sounded distracted.

"Oh thank God!" Relief washed through me. "Can I talk to her, I mean, I realise she probably doesn't want to speak to me right now-"

"Clary what are you on about? I said she _was_ here, not she _is_ here. I tried to hang onto her but she ran away from me, portalled as soon as I was clear from her. I'm sorry."

I didn't really hear him, firstly because my relief turned back into hopelessness, and secondly because the phone slipped out of my hand and clattered off the hard floor, breaking apart and skidding to the edges of the room.

"Clary?" I heard Jace pick up his pace behind me. "Clary," he was on his knees in front of me, he looked just as helpless as he had done before so I couldn't imagine what my face reflected. I probably didn't want to know. "Clary? Did you talk to Simon? What did he say?"

"She was there," the tears were rolling slowly down my face. "_Was_, not _is_. She got away from him. Portalled somewhere else. Jace, what are we gonna do? My baby girls all alone and I have no idea where she is; she could be anywhere." The tears were falling freely now, new ones taking the place of the ones Jace managed to wipe away; there were so many.

"Clary, love," he sounded so tender. "Do you think you can get us to Simon's; it's quicker than any other transport."

I nodded.

"Okay, I'll go tell everyone where we're going. I will be one minute." He reassured me, leaning in and cupping my face. He looked me in the eyes then kissed me once, softly, slowly – as if he were afraid it would break me – before departing.

He was so much less than a minute; he said everyone had been close by, but the colour in his cheeks told me otherwise. I didn't care though. I needed him.

"You ready?" He asked, taking my hand. I let him use it to help me up. I tried to smile, and squeezed his hand when I didn't quite manage. I took out my stele.

* * *

Even after all these years I still hated that sensation. At least I'd learnt how to land on my feet though.

"Simon!" He was waiting for us when we got there, he must have known I'd come. I ran over to him, hugging him tightly. "Tell me what happened! When did she leave?" I demanded of him.

"About a minute before you called. I was gonna call _you_, I just... She was _so_ upset. What's been happening at your end?" He asked, still distracted. He ushered us into his living room.

"I'm sure she told you," Jace said arrogantly, sitting down next to me on the sofa, leaving Simon to take the armchair.

"Very briefly; she accused you guys of hiding something, and then lying to cover it up. She also assumed that I know what you're hiding. Clary, _relax_," he told me, as I'd visibly started to freak out after learning that my daughter knew so much. "I played it down, teased her, told her she should see a professional," he laughed at himself. "Then she hit me and, not expecting it, I fell back. Then, next thing I know I...she...we..." He was struggling to explain, and I could have sworn he was starting to blush.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was saying; out the corner of my eye Jace was watching me, him and Simon were never best friends, even when they did get along, but lately they'd almost reverted back to how they used to be when they first met, I'd never asked them what the difference was. I tried to imagine the scenario in my mind, imagine it and find some conclusion for his behaviour. It hit me like a blow to the head; a very _hard_ blow. That was the difference. I'd suspected it...Jace must have seen it.

My mouth fell open, the conclusion I'd come to causing me more shock that it normally would have. I stared at him until he met my eyes; and when he did I knew I was right. "You kissed her didn't you?" I asked.

"What?" Jace's voice was like venom. I took his hand to stop him from killing Simon; I couldn't stop him from talking though. "You filthy downworlder, how dare you even touch her!" He was livid.

I was more shocked than angry; shocked and slightly uneasy. "Simon she's my daughter!" _It's weird..._ I added silently.

"If you'd have listened to me, you'd have heard me say '_she_' in there somewhere." He sighed, knowing he'd have to explain, and how uncomfortable it would be. "I was teasing her and she shoved me; hard. I fell back into the cushions and she landed on top of me. It felt so natural; like breathing," he joked, due to his exploitation of the exercise. "She leaned down into me, and I came up and met her." He half smiled to himself, sadness in his eyes and I began to feel sorry for him; _poor Simon. He loves her._ "I'm sorry," he said, "I never should have...I stopped though, told her it was wrong; that's when she ran away." He paused, and I could tell he regretted letting her go, in both meanings of the word. Concern for my friend ran through me; but there was no way Simon would talk with Jace here, he would get his head ripped off if Jace heard more than he already knew.

I could tell he was still watching me and refusing to look at Simon, his whole posture was statuesque and his breathing sounded forced, showing the effort he was exerting to keep his anger under control; I knew he would happily rip Simon's head off given a seconds notice. I turned towards him and silently pleaded for him to leave for a few minutes. He understood and got up grudgingly, muttering until he was out of earshot. I looked back at Simon and he had relaxed visibly. He smiled timidly, which I understood to mean 'thank you'.

"She ran away from you because you rejected her." I stated.

"Yeah," he admitted, sighing again.

"She didn't want you to stop kissing her," I continued and then paused. "And neither did you." His head shot up. "Simon, it's...well it's not okay, but, I kind of had the feeling you would fall for her. She's exactly like me, except with Jace's better qualities. It was pretty much inevitable." I laughed sympathetically.

"I wish I hadn't." He sounded so sad. "It's not like I can really be with her; she's gonna grow up...I'm not." His face showed sadness then went blank, and he was suddenly lost in thought. Then he suddenly perked up, like a light bulb had been switched on somewhere in his mind.

"She's your daughter," he explained to me, prompting me to get to where he was.

"Yes and now I'm back to square one with no idea where she is so if you have an idea just tell me, _please_," I begged of him.

"She's your daughter, just like you – you said it yourself. Where do you go when you're upset?" He asked.

I finally saw where he was going. "High ground," I answered, my brain trying to think one thought ahead of itself.

"And where's the highest place in New York?" He asked, anticipation in his eyes.

I sucked in a breath; I was finally where he was. "Thank you," I said, after getting up and moving over to him; I kissed his cheek. "_Thank you_," I said again, already running to get Jace. He barely saw me before I was yanking him after me; back through the portal.

_

* * *

_

Maxine's POV

* * *

I've always loved the Empire State building, ever since my dad first brought me here as a child. The look on my face had been like when a kid sees the castle at Disney World for the first time. The height excited, rather than frightened me; so I had, of course, ran straight to the edge...giving my dad a figurative heart attack. Which I loved, but I'd ran over and hugged his waist till he relaxed.

I smiled briefly as I remembered. But it didn't last long.

I'd never felt before the way I did when I was kissing Simon; yet I was still managing to miss it, as I stood all alone on the observation deck, the wind whipping my hair around my face. Where had everything gone wrong?

_An answer with so many questions_, I thought. I knew when my world had started to crumble, but despite that, I couldn't bring myself to be mad at Izzy. She'd only told the truth; unlike my parents. I got the feeling I'd only started to scrape the surface of the iceberg. Who knew what they were really hiding. What really annoyed me though, was the fact that I'd always thought I had a really good relationship with them.

I thought about what dad had said, about his name being Herondale, did that mean my whole identity was a lie? Maxine Herondale. Urgh; I shuddered. I hated it! It was a lie! No, it was the truth, which was infinitely worse! I felt like I should be crying, but I couldn't even if I wanted to; there was too much anger in me. I was griping the railing so tight my hand was starting to cramp.

I hated the name '_Herondale,_' and all those that lived under... Oh my God. A name flashed up in my head, one that I'd completely forgotten about. Amatis. Amatis _Herondale_. My great Aunt I suppose is the official title; I just call her by her first name. How could I forget? We visit her every year when we go to Alicante. How had I not made this connection before now? I had to talk to her. _What time is it?_ I wondered, looking at my watch. 9 p.m. Crap; it was like three in the morning in Idris.

Over the sound of the wind, I heard a noise on the rooftop round the corner; a sort of thump, like the sound you make when you land. They'd found me, I was sure of it. The decision I'd been debating for the last few minutes suddenly had to be made very quickly. On the one hand I wanted to confront my parents and ask them straight out what it is they're hiding; but I still had the feeling they would lie to me. I realised I only really had one option so 3 a.m. or not; Idris here I come.

I took my stele out my pocket and began to draw the familiar rune. I worked hard to make sure the portal was strong enough to get me there, but weak enough to make sure it would disappear the moment I was though, like all the other portals I'd drawn today. I didn't want to be followed.

"Maxie!" My dad shouted from behind me. I didn't have much time; in fact, the speed dad could run...I was out of time. I stepped hastily through the portal, thinking only of the glass towers as I left New York far behind me.

_

* * *

_

Just to let you know, the next chapter may take a little longer as it's one of the one's that didn't get finished when I first wrote this. I have one or two POVs to completely write, but bear with me; I'll get it to you eventually.


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